


the careful way he formed the pleats of his kilt

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [22]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Jamie and Claire helping each other dress one morning</p>
            </blockquote>





	the careful way he formed the pleats of his kilt

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/135785632776/imagine-jamie-and-claire-helping-each-other-dress) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

Claire yawned, sat up, and stretched after Jamie left the bed. She wrapped the warm quilt around her shoulders, watching her husband crouch on the carpet and carefully pleat his plaid.

“I still can’t understand how your parts don’t freeze off when you wear a kilt in this weather,” she murmured, legs dangling over the edge of the lumpy feather mattress, admiring how the hairs dusting his thighs glowed in the new day’s bright light.

“Mmphmm. Weel - we Scots are made of much thicker stuff than you thin-blooded English,” he teased, smoothing out the fabric before forming the necessary creases.

From her perch on the bed, Claire enjoyed the way Jamie’s shirt hung off his body. “Mmphmm. Thick, to be sure.”

 _That_ got his attention - he looked up with a grin of his own, slanted eyes narrowing with pleasure. “Do ye forget already what we spent the past hour doing, Sassenach?”

Slowly, deliberately, she rose and padded over to him - careful not to step on the length of tartan - and held the quilt just below her breasts. “No. But I thought I’d told you I wasn’t done.”

“And I thought I’d told you I’ve chores to do.” Hands shaking a bit, he returned to his work - checking that his belt was secure under the fabric, laying flat on his back, and folding one side of the tartan over his middle.

Claire dropped her quilt. It pooled on Jamie’s feet. He gaped up at his wife as her legs parted, planting one foot on either side of his knees, hands on her hips. Paralyzed with want, he let her push the draped tartan back onto the floor, her toes tickling his thigh.

“You’re staying.” 

She sank to her knees, straddling him.

“Aye,” he croaked.

—–

“Weren’t you supposed to go to the whisky spring with Da this morning?” 

Roger eased onto the bench next to Jem as Brianna placed a bowl of steaming parritch on the table in front of him. “Aye - he wanted to get an early start, but I havena seen him yet.”

Brianna added a dollop of honey to Mandy’s parritch, enticing her to eat rather than play with Esmerelda. “And the milk pail was left empty on the counter - that’s always one of Mama’s first chores.”

“One bannock in your mouth at a time, Jem,” Roger admonished. “Ye dinna suppose they’ve taken ill? They never sleep past-”

A loud crash above - from his in-laws’ bedroom. Roger raised a knowing eyebrow at his wife, and she rolled her eyes.

He turned back to his breakfast. “All right. Which of you kids want to come with me to fetch some whisky?”


End file.
